Tuesday, February 27, 2024

JAILHOUSE WARDRESS - BLU-RAY REVIEW

If we’re to believe the phony Anglicized credits, JAILHOUSE WARDRESS (1979) is just another routine women-in-prison film, but seldom have distributors sought so earnestly to camouflage a film’s true origins and pass it off as an entirely new picture like the lovable hucksters at Eurociné. Perhaps best known on these shores for producing several Jess Franco films such as FEMALE VAMPIRE (a.k.a. EROTIKILL, 1973), this Paris-based distribution outfit and production company has also become synonymous with a number of hastily cobbled-together films, of which JAILHOUSE WARDRESS is probably their most infamous. Following the success of Jess Franco’s far superior WIP film BARBED WIRE DOLLS (1975), which Eurociné distributed and owed the rights to in France, they decided to offer their very own contribution to the genre. But rather than take the time and trouble to shoot an all-new film, Eurociné instead ransacked Franco’s picture, stretching out miles of ‘previously viewed’ footage with a handful of ‘all-new’ insert scenes overseen by in-house director Alain Deruelle, which they probably threw together over a single long weekend. It shows. 

 

Essentially a re-hash of BWDJAILHOUSE WARDRESS is a jumbled, schizo mix of mismatched scenes, a conflicting mix of characters, and paltry budget. Care of re-dubbed footage taken from Alain Payet’s SPECIAL TRAIN FOR HITLER (a.k.a. HELLTRAIN, 1977), a twitchy SS Colonel (Roger Darton) is forming a plan to eliminate “traitors and defeatists” from the Third Reich during the waning days of WWII, and upon Hitler’s own recommendation, Fraulein Elsa Ackermann (Monica Swinn) is ordered to run the operation. Next, we’re in a cramped apartment in modern day France, which possibly doubles as a Mossad safehouse (we know this because there is a large Israeli flag in the living room) where Jewish secret agents discuss the “red Heidelberg file”, which details the ongoing search to find and kill the SS Colonel from the opening who killed “thousands of Jews in concentration camps.” It develops that this Colonel has fled to South America with Elsa (“You know the story...”), where they are now running a local prison, which sets the stage for the rest of the film. 

 

Virtually the entirety of BARBED WIRE DOLLS (minus most of its sexually explicit material) seems to have been recycled here, albeit with its continuity drastically rearranged. Adding to the confusion, newly-shot footage with Eurociné regulars Nadine Pascal and Pamela Stanford as a pair of jovial prisoners clashes severely with Franco’s original downbeat scenario, and does nothing to propel the story forward; they merely lounge around the prison in constant states of partial or total undress discussing nothing in particular, and despite utilizing large portions of BWD, much of that film’s dreary - and highly potent – atmosphere is completely eliminated here. More in line with some of Eurocine’s other piecemeal films such as HOUSE OF CRUEL DOLLS (1974) or OASIS OF THE LOST GIRLS (1981), few of the disjointed storylines and newly-shot scenes ever properly gel, while disconnected pages of seemingly unrelated scripts seem to have been cut together using third-hand gaffer’s tape. When Nestor (Didier Aubriot, who poorly replaces the always watchable Eric Falk from the original) has his way with the prisoners, the film resorts to some flaccid attempts to instill some excitement, but much of the potentially offending scenes come across as laughable (“Close your eyes! There’s nothing to it!” remarks one of the girls.), which is made doubly ineffective by Daniel J. White’s crudely inserted and wholly inappropriate jazzy interludes; and it’s also hard not to notice the black-painted balsa wood doubling for solid iron bars! Following various prison subplots and backstories (including Lina Romay’s and Jess Franco’s infamous slow-motion death scene from BWD), our Jewish operative from the beginning finally reasserts his omnipotence with a bonus minute of action…

 

Despite its lowly pedigree, JAILHOUSE WARDRESS has seen more than a few releases during the digital era, beginning with Videofilm Express’ NAZI FILM COLLECTION, a 6-disc box set from 2010, which saw it issued alongside several other Eurociné Nazi-themed war films. This Dutch Region 2 PAL DVD was touted as a 16x9 release, but was weirdly stretched to accommodate a 1:85 image, so in order to watch the film in its intended 1.66:1 framing, viewers had to manually adjust their aspect ratio settings on their DVD player. The film was in English and included optional Dutch subtitles. In 2017, UK based label Maison Rouge released a slightly improved transfer of the film (albeit now weirdly in a 1.40 widescreen format) with marginally better colour timing, but for most casual viewers, the film’s differing film stocks and poorly recycled footage will make for a frustrating viewing experience. Earlier this year, thanks to MVD Classics and their continuing relationship with Eurociné, JAILHOUSE WARDRESS made its worldwide Blu-ray debut, and much like Maison Rouge’s UK disc, this is virtually the same transfer with a very minor uptick in quality thanks to the higher bitrate, but this still remains a poorly prepared transfer, which is littered with surface scratches and fluctuating contrast that lacks any real detail. As an interesting side note, the prominent swastika which adorned Maison Rouge’s DVD art is conspicuously missing from MVD Classics’ otherwise identical BD cover image, which in this day and age, is not surprising. 

 

There are no extras to speak of, other than a few newly-constructed trailers for some of MVD Classics’ other Eurociné product, which for the record include Pierre Chevalier’s CONVOY OF WOMEN (1m03s, 1974), Jess Franco’s GOLDEN TEMPLE AMAZONS (1m50s, 1984), Amando De Ossorio’s Canadian-set western HUDSON RIVER MASSACRE (1m30s, 1965), and Alain Payet’s NATHALIE ESCAPE FROM HELL (1m13s, 1978). 


Although still of interest to the more fetishistic Jess Franco fan or indiscriminate Eurotrash completists, JAILHOUSE WARDRESS has the arguable distinction of being one of the poorest films in the entire Eurociné catalogue! And that’s really saying something!